


drop

by venomondenim



Series: Parkner Tries BDSM [2]
Category: Iron Man 3 (2013), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Bloodplay, Bondage, Bottom Peter, Bottom Peter Parker, Caprisuns Deserve Their Own Tag, Cuddling, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Harley, Dom Harley Keener, Domdrop, Dub/Con Play, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Knifeplay, M/M, Negotiated Non/Con, Negotiated Threats of Violence, Not Real Dub/Con, Sub Peter, Sub Peter Parker, Subdrop, Subspace, Top Harley, Top Harley Keener, Traffic Light System, Webshooter Bondage, everything is okay and they love each other, lots of aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26490967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomondenim/pseuds/venomondenim
Summary: Peter licked his dry lips. “Please,” He croaked. He wanted to reach the edge where it all faded into delirium, where the only thing he could feel was his skin and how it separated, then slowly stitched itself back together.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: Parkner Tries BDSM [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925923
Comments: 9
Kudos: 202





	drop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkner_keenker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkner_keenker/gifts).



> this sequel was fun! i initially had a different plan for it, but then it kind of spawned into it's own whole thing. i had fun really going into writing subspace and what it can be like. i hope you guys enjoy.

“What’s your safeword?” Harley’s voice rumbled from his position on top of Peter. Peter’s hands were rendered immobile by his own webbing again. If they kept using it for kinky sex, Peter was going to end up popping a boner every time he used the webshooters in his suit. Harley had a knife that he was flipping in between his fingers casually, but the sight of it alone was causing Peter’s breath to stutter in the back of his throat. 

“Einstein,” Peter said, trying to keep his own voice as steady as possible. It was a hard feat to manage when Harley was looking at him like that, eyes dark, and smile predatory. 

“That’s good, baby,” Harley crooned as he inched closer, towering over Peter, making the boy feel small and helpless. The metal edge of the knife in his hand gleamed under the lamplight of their bedroom. 

They had talked over this scene multiple times at this point. Peter wanted it. He couldn’t wait for it. But he also couldn’t help the sick little rush of fear that went through his veins as Harley lowered the knife. He didn’t press it against the skin yet, instead, he merely rested it along Peter’s collarbone as Peter’s heart thumped sluggishly in his chest. He rested it there, not breaking the skin, just hard enough so that Peter could feel it. He could feel the knife’s presence, and how Harley imposed over him but didn’t take the plunge yet. 

If it got to be too much, or Peter needed everything to stop he could use his safeword at any time. He was grateful that Harley was making him say it, his tongue was like cotton in his mouth around the word as it fell from his lips. That delicious fuzziness that he craved was already teetering on the edge of his mind, enticing him to submit to it. To just lie back and let Harley take whatever pleasure he wanted from him. He wanted to be good for him. 

Peter shifted a bit and felt his shoulders and arms strain from their entrapment in the webbing. His senses were on overdrive, seemingly uncertain if they should fire-up on hyper-alert, or lay dormant to help their host relax. The amalgamation was that Peter felt _everything_. Peter could hear Harley’s heart beating in his chest, and could also hear the blood rushing through his veins. The towel underneath Peter was soft, though, not as soft as their sheets, but it was fine because they needed something to catch the blood. 

At the reminder that his Daddy was about to mark him up and make him bleed, Peter shivered. Harley’s eyes sparkled as he caught the movement, and his smile twisted into something that was more dangerous. He lifted the knife from its place along Peter’s collarbone, and slowly trailed the pointed edge down the center of Peter’s stomach. 

“Where should Daddy mark you up first?” Harley asked, but Peter knew the question was entirely rhetorical. He didn’t have a say. Harley considered him for another moment, then made his first cut. 

The cut wasn’t too bad and wasn’t even deep. It was a neat slash, forming a line cut on the meaty outer part of Peter’s left thigh. Peter gasped but otherwise remained silent. The sharpness of it though, the sting, made tears prickle at the corner of his eyes already.

Peter didn’t look down. He wasn’t quite ready yet to see the blood, but Harley was staring at where he made the first cut, his blue eyes turning almost black. 

“That’s one, baby,” Harley told him. “How many do you think you deserve? 10? 20? Maybe I should roll you over on your back and lash you until you’re begging me to stop. Would you like that?” 

Peter licked his dry lips. “Please,” He croaked. He wanted to reach the edge where it all faded into delirium, where the only thing he could feel was his skin and how it separated, then slowly stitched itself back together. 

Harley chuckled. It was low, and dark, causing Peter’s stomach to erupt in butterflies. “I think we’ll go with 10 tonight. You’re so tempting like this. I could just cut you up into tiny pieces, and you’d scream all you want. You’d beg, and cry those pretty little tears for me but…” Harley trailed off. He wiped the tiny bit of blood from the knife off on the towel and then dragged the blade over Peter’s ribs. He didn’t break the skin, but the tip of the knife was cold enough that it kind of felt like he had. “No one’s here to help you. No one’s gonna save you, babydoll. It’s just you and me, and all the things I’m going to do to you.” 

“You can’t do this,” Peter argued, his voice sounded pathetic even to his own ears. 

“Oh really? Who’s gonna stop me?” Harley grazed the knife against his skin, ever so gently. “You?” 

“I’m stronger than you.” Peter bit out.

“Maybe you are,” Harley agreed, his tone bored. “But from the way I see it, I have you all tied up here, ready for me to do whatever I want with you. If you’re so strong, then break free, sweetheart. I know you can.” 

Peter struggled against where his wrists were caught in the webbing. It was all mostly for show. He could break out of the webbing if he really wanted to. But this was all a part of their game. He whimpered, finally falling lax after a few minutes of struggling. “I can’t.” He whined. “What did you do to me!”

“Aww but baby,” Harley crooned. “I didn’t do anything. This is all you. Your body knows what you want even if you won’t admit it. You just wanna be Daddy’s little whore. Look at you, about to get blood all over my towel and my bed. I know your secret.” Harley’s words were dark and they made Peter’s blood sing as it pumped through his veins. “You love it when Daddy makes you bleed.” 

“No!” Peter gasped, writhing on the bed. “No!”

“No?” Harley taunted before he cut another line on Peter’s other thigh, a perfect mirror of his first one. He laughed a sinful, evil thing. “Because it looks to me like your body is saying yes.” He gestured down to Peter’s cock, which was hard and leaking against his stomach. 

“No don’t! Please!” Peter begged, feeling tears trickle down his cheeks. 

Harley didn’t say anything. He went stock still and calculating. Then, he climbed on top of Peter again and brought the knife up, right against his throat. “What I’m going to do,” Harley said harshly, leaving no room for argument. “Is stroke your cock like I know you want me to. But the question, angel, is what _you’re_ going to do.” Harley paused, eyes glinting. “Or not do, I guess.” He grinned wickedly, still holding the knife to Peter’s throat. “Cause I’m gonna keep this right here.” He pressed the knife down for effect. He didn’t cut him, but it was enough that Peter could feel the pressure of the knife. His spidey senses were going crazy at the prospect of danger, but they were relaxed enough around Harley that it never warned him of his next move. 

Peter’s heart was racing, and he could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins making everything ultra-bright, but also hazy at the same time. It was a rush of sensations. It was like the first time he jumped, unsure of if his webbing would catch him or not. Somehow, this was a million times more intense. He had a brief flash of a thought that maybe it was that much _more_ because he knew Harley would catch him in the end. Even if he was the one who hurt him first. 

The first touch of Harley’s hand to his cock caused him to jerk, and the knife dipped in just enough for a little trickle of blood to run down his neck. Peter’s mouth fell open as his heart rattled around in his ribcage and he felt his body seizing up in fear. There was no way he was going to be able to keep still. Not when Harley was touching his cock like that. Something in his eyes must have given him away because Harley moved the knife. He laid it flat along Peter’s cheek as Peter trembled. 

“You can keep still for me while I do this. I know you can.” Harley soothed. “You can be a good boy for me. Just be a good boy for Daddy.” 

A good boy. Peter felt warmth spread through his chest. He wanted to be a good boy for his Daddy. He wanted to be good. That’s all he wanted, really, for Harley to praise him and be proud of him. The fogginess that he felt creeping at the edge of his consciousness suddenly came to the forefront of his mind, like a cloud encompassing him. He could be good. He would do anything that his Daddy wanted. 

“Please?” Peter whispered, his voice broken and hoarse. 

“Good boy,” Harley told him, and it made the warmth spread even further in Peter’s chest. “One minute you’re saying no, and the next you’re saying please. It’s so much easier to just let Daddy do whatever he wants to you, isn’t it, honey?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Peter said obediently. Harley was his only focus. 

Harley grasped his hand around Peter’s cock again and stroked it slowly. He twisted his wrist once he got to the head, and gathered all the precum at this tip with his thumb. He spread it all over Peter’s cock so that his next couple of strokes were wet and smooth. Peter let out a needy moan as Harley settled into an unhurried rhythm. It took everything inside of Peter to keep himself still. The knife against his throat was a nice incentive, but Peter was paralyzed by his need to be good for Harley and to give him what he asked for. 

Peter started falling in deep and got lost in the waves of pleasure as they rolled over him. It felt like he was underwater, just slowly floating to the surface. The pleasure eventually rescinded, and it was suddenly easier to keep still. Peter gasped in a lungful of air. He could hear Harley talking, but it was far away and he couldn’t make out any of the words. He turned towards the voice, not really seeing. 

Another cut was made on his thigh, he was pretty sure, but he hardly registered it. It didn’t even hurt, it just was like a rush of stinging iciness that made an involuntary whimper come out from the back of his throat. He heard more words from the same voice, but he couldn’t process them. He wanted to go back under with the waves, but something was pulling him up to the surface. 

“Peter?” He heard the voice say. That was his name. “Peter?” It said again, and Peter tried to reply, but it was hard to talk. He was groggy, and everything felt far away - like it was just out of reach. “Peter, can you hear me?” 

He could, but he didn’t know how to convey it. Then, a hand came down and pressed against his cheek. Peter mewled, rubbing his face into the hand. His thighs burned, and his arms were in an awkward position, but he couldn’t figure out why. It was like he could see all the pieces, but not how they all connected together. 

“I’m going to get you out of this webbing, okay sweetie? It’s alright.” The voice assured him. Peter hummed. He liked the voice. He trusted the voice. The next thing he knew his arms were no longer being elevated and he could feel hands all over his body, and massaging his wrists. That solved one problem, but he still couldn’t piece together why his legs hurt, or why he didn’t know where he was. 

“Peter? Angel, I need to know if you can hear me.” Peter knew that voice. He did. It was-

“Harley?” He croaked, his throat as dry as sandpaper. Once he said it, it was like a dam broke and he couldn’t stop. “Harley, Harley, Harley-” He slurred, saying his name like he was a broken record. 

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Harley said, and Peter believed him, blinking rapidly. He could see the ceiling now, but everything still seemed surreal. 

“Harley?” 

“I’m here, baby. I’m right here. I got you.” Harley started moving him, and Peter leaned into every single one of his touches. He needed him. He needed his hands on him. Peter was limp like a rag doll as Harley started maneuvering him. Harley lifted him and settled him into his lap. He pressed Peter’s back completely against his chest, and wrapped both of his legs over Peter’s, locking him in. His strong arms went around Peter’s torso, and Peter let his head fall back onto his shoulder. He nearly purred with contentment. It was like Harley was encompassing him entirely, and he never wanted the contact to stop. 

He nosed against Harley’s neck, sighing. He finally felt close enough to him. He would probably crawl inside Harley if he could. He always made him feel safe. He wanted to give back in to the floaty place, but Harley’s arms and warmth were keeping him steady. “Harley,” He whined, his words still not coming out quite right, and slurring. 

“You’re okay. You’re perfect. It’s okay. You were so good. I’m so proud of you.” Harley insisted, placing kisses into his hair. 

Peter smiled, burrowing closer. “Good?”

“So good. So perfect. You were the best. So good to me. Can you come back to me, baby?” 

Warmth spread through Peter’s chest once again as he felt each one of his senses come back to him, one by one. It was almost like magic how Harley’s words brought him to the surface. He broke through the top layer of water that was holding him down as he came back to himself. One minute he was still floating, and the next minute he was blinking and was able to zero in on Harley’s face. He felt a little trapped with Harley completely holding him down, but it was also kind of nice, it was a good kind of trapped. 

“Jesus.” Peter choked out as he became fully aware again. His head sort of throbbed, and his mouth was cottony. He flexed his toes as everything came rushing back. Harley had been cutting him, and then everything had stopped. He glanced down at his legs, startled, to see that the cuts that Harley had made had already started to scab over. “Fuck.” He said, throwing his head back. He was wrung out and exhausted. A little burn of disappointment went through him as he realized that neither of them had came. 

“What happened?” He had been fine, and then all of a sudden he hadn’t been. 

Harley kissed his jaw, and squeezed his arms tight around him comfortingly. “You went into drop, baby.” 

Peter shivered. He had gone into subspace a handful of times before, but he had never gone under that intensely before. His mouth tasted sour. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

“No, baby.” Harley soothed, but his voice was stern and left no room for argument. “You were perfect, and I’m proud of you. I went too far, but it’s okay.” 

Peter frowned. “I didn’t safeword,” He pointed out. 

Harley chuckled, dry and humorless. “Because you physically couldn’t, baby. I asked you for your color twice, and you never answered me.” 

“You did?” Peter asked, twisting around in Harley’s arms to look at him. He couldn’t even remember him asking. 

“Yeah. I untied you when you didn’t answer me. Your eyes got all glassy like, you were looking but you weren’t seeing anything. I didn’t realize you were under that bad. I should have stopped sooner.” Harley told him, and Peter didn’t like how it sounded like he was beating himself up.

“I didn’t even know that was going to happen,” Peter admitted. “But it’s...okay.” He said tentatively. “I’m okay, you’re okay. We’re all okay. Now we know for next time.” 

Harley swallowed, and Peter could feel it because of their proximity. “I don’t want to knifeplay again for a while.” His voice took on a softer edge, one Peter recognized from when he was usually sharing secrets. “That was kind of scary...for me.” 

Peter turned and kissed a spot behind his ear. “I’m sorry,” He said quietly, and continued before Harley could object. “But, you were perfect. Even when I was really far down and I couldn’t tell what you were saying I still felt safe, because it was your voice.” 

“I love you,” Harley said, and Peter could hear all the emotion in his voice. 

“I love you, more,” Peter replied, because that was their thing. 

Harley sucked in a breath. “No, like. I- I really, _really_ love you. Like, ‘I love you’ doesn’t even feel big enough, kind of love you.” 

Peter was pretty sure all of his insides turned gooey at his admission. “I know,” he whispered. “I love you like that, too.” 

Harley nosed a line up Peter’s neck. “God, how did I find you?” 

“If I remember correctly,” Peter grinned cheekily, “It was in Mister Stark’s lab, and you said, and I quote, ‘please tell me you work here and I didn’t just imagine you’.” 

“I’m still convinced you’re just a figment of my imagination.” 

Peter laughed, and it echoed around the room. “Well, your imagination must be pretty good considering your fantasy paid the electric bill last month.” 

Harley wiggled his eyebrows. “You know my imagination is the best.” 

Peter snorted, but mostly relaxed into Harley’s embrace. He shifted a little bit in slight discomfort. Now that he was mostly out of subspace, and the afterglow was wearing off, he could feel all the dull aches and stiffness coming onto him. Peter pouted, and put on his best puppy dog eyes. 

“Harley?” He whined. “I have a dilemma.” 

Harley hummed. “What’s your dilemma, baby?” 

“I would kill someone for a capri-sun right now. But, if you stop touching me for even a second I might cry.” Peter told him, sounding tortured. 

Harley laughed, and this time he echoed the room, which made Peter smile. “What if I carried you, baby? Is that what you want?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically. Harley got off the bed, but made sure to keep some part of him touching Peter the entire time. He lifted Peter up as Peter easily wrapped his legs around his waist, and threw his arms around his neck. Harley carried him out to the kitchen, and sat him down on the counter, right next to the refrigerator. “You know,” Harley teased, pulling out multiple capri-suns from the refrigerator, with a pack of orange slices as well. “For someone who has super-strength, you sure make me do most of the carrying.” 

Peter smiled lazily. “Is this you telling me that you want me to give you more piggyback rides.” 

Harley grinned. “That is _absolutely_ what I’m telling you. Look, I’m an equal opportunist piggybacker.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “That’s not even a word.” 

“How very English major of you, Peter.” 

Peter scowled. “Take that back.” 

“Why? You gonna write a poem about how awful I am?” Harley pushed.

Peter sniffed. “You know, maybe I will. It’ll be a savage haiku.” 

Harley shook his head. “Damn. I’m not even worthy of a sonnet.” He handed Peter one of the capri-suns, and was nice enough to already put the straw in it too. Maybe Harley deserved some rights. Not many. But maybe some. 

Peter gulped down most of the capri-sun greedily, then said, “Okay but this capri-sun, is definitely getting a sonnet.” 

Harley sighed, pretending to be affronted. “I see my ranking.” 

Peter curled his foot around Harley’s waist and pulled him in. When he got close, he let his hands fall to Harley’s hips. “I love you really big.” He said, and meant it. 

“I love you really big, too,” Harley replied, and he meant it too.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't think i've ever written porn before where neither of the people cum in the end lmao. hope you guys enjoyed reading it none the less and let me know if you want more from this kinky pair! you can find me on tumblr, twitter, or discord @venomondenim <3


End file.
